My Floorboards Make Me Feel like a Terrible Person

When I magically and mysteriously become inexplicably rich, the first thing I will do is hire someone to clean my bathrooms. The two children I gave birth to have been granted that great privilege now, and their skills are still somewhat, shall I say, lacking. Their top priority is to finish, not necessarily finish well.

And bathrooms need to be cleaned well.

That brings me to the task I just completed today – the deep cleaning of a bathroom my dear offspring only surface cleaned.

Sigh.

It made me feel like a pig.

I’m one of those people who hates visual clutter and who actually enjoys organizing. But apparently when it comes to deep cleaning, I turn a blinder eye than I realize. I got on my hands and knees, a la Cinderella, wiping down cabinet fronts and scrubbing floorboards.

Can we talk about what disgusting dust collectors they are? And the unbelievable amount of hair I apparently lose each day? Bleh. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s not right in your face. But when you’re crawling around at ground level, it’s right there in your face.

And it’s gross.

So like any woman worth her salt, I began the negative self-talk. I fussed at myself for not deep-cleaning more often, and I based my worth on the condition of my floorboards.

Being me sometimes is stupid.

So here’s what I learned as I dusted and scrubbed today:

Houses get dirty. Bathrooms get disgusting. Dust builds. Hair collects in corners. And none of that means anything about me, except that I need to clean.